Reflection
by moirykins
Summary: Simply, a very small piece. Lily reflecting on things the night before her wedding. Just something small and different from my usual angst.


She sat in the small room all alone, the quiet wrapping around her like a warm blanket, soft and comforting. Finally, every well-wishing member of her family was gone, retired to their rooms, leaving her alone in her bedroom. For the last time. Ever.

This time tomorrow, this wouldn't be her home anymore.

She sat on the bed that had been hers since she was three, on a blanket made by her grandmother by hand when she was nine. On the small dresser in front of her rested a large mirror, the girl with the emerald eyes and deep auburn hair staring back at her.

She almost didn't recognize her reflection anymore.

Sighing, she looked down at her hand, twisting the small ring on her left hand, remembering the excitement she felt the very first time it slid over her knuckle. The coolness of the gold band still made her shiver, a small smile creeping onto her lips. The tiny diamond twinkled in the fading candlelight, the fire of the stone kicking back to her eyes, reminding her of the light in his dark eyes when he gave it to her.

Tomorrow, she'd be a new person. A phoenix, rising not from ashes, but from rose petals and white satin.

Sighing, she stood again, running a finger over the lace of her wedding gown. The one that had been her mother's, and her mother's before her; the one that had been painstakingly altered for her over the last few months. Tomorrow it would be hers. She'd wear it under the sun, standing in the small wooden gazebo behind the chapel near their new home. The grass would be green, the flowers bright and colorful.

And he'd be there, holding her hand, making her his, making him hers.

Tears trickled softly down her cheeks as she remembered the last eight or nine years of her life. Remembering his every taunt and tease, his every flippant comment and mean prank. Remembering every time she told him off for being so vain and arrogant. Remembering that one night, seventh year, when he dropped the act and begged her to see him in a new light. Remembering telling him she already did.

Her jewelry sat out on her dresser, the something old, new, borrowed, and blue of Muggle tradition represented. Her mother's sapphire earrings, her grandmother's handkerchief, the necklace he'd given her as a gift hours before, and the small hairpin from Alice. All of them there, ready for the next morning, as she did battle with her heavy waves of hair, slipping into her dress with care, her mother and aunt and maid of honor and whoever else felt like invading her privacy helping her prepare for the most magical day of her life.

She still couldn't believe it was about to happen.

So many things had changed. An owl sitting in her kitchen, waiting for her. A letter from some faraway place, offering her a world she'd never before imagined existed. Classrooms and libraries and castle towers and broomsticks and creatures so odd her parents were sure she made it all up.

A boy with messy hair and glasses who annoyed her, who pestered her, who finally loved her.

She'd slipped into that world so easily, so many things making sense like never before. Not that she'd turned her back on her world, because she loved her parents so completely. But it didn't feel right, anymore. The world of charms and potions made more logic to her now, and there was no going back.

Now, she didn't have to.

Their home. Tomorrow it would be a reality. A small little house, four walls and rooms and furniture all their own. A place to live and laugh and love. A tiny room already set aside for a possible nursery someday. Bookshelves for her, access to a park with heavy trees for him. Even a garage for his best friend to hide his enchanted motorcycle when he came on visits.

It was perfect.

A picture on the wall made the smile fade. Her sister had refused to come tomorrow, and the rejection broke her heart completely. The excuse of her pregnancy was plausible, but it still saddened her. The rift between the two that formed the day the owl came had never healed, no matter how hard she worked. Now, there wouldn't be many more chances. Not with work, and marriage…

Work. Another chill went through her, this time of worry. She'd deliberately kept that from her parents, so as to alleviate their own worry. They need not know of the dark wizard she'd vowed, along with her love, to fight and thwart. As long as they didn't know, as long as they believed their daughter was safe and content, they'd be happy. Their happiness meant the world to her.

With a heavy sigh, she looked at the clock on the wall. It was late. Tomorrow was destined to be a long day. As she blew the candles out and crawled under familiar blankets for one final night sleep, the smile returned.

_Tomorrow, no more Lily Evans. Lily Potter. Mrs. James Potter. James and Lily Potter._

The thought carried her to sleep.


End file.
